


Ragr

by YaminoTenshi202



Category: Thor - All Media Types
Genre: Artistic License, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-11-01
Updated: 2017-11-04
Packaged: 2019-01-26 21:14:16
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,213
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12566316
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/YaminoTenshi202/pseuds/YaminoTenshi202
Summary: She was not her father; she was so much more.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I'm taking a break from everything for a bit to write about Hela and her little brothers.

Hela looked down at the little creatures that Odin held in his arms. One gazed up at him with bright blue eyes, the scent of burning air tickling her nose. The other had shifted from ice to flesh in front of her, Odin giving the child beautiful green eyes that looked like hers.

"Hela, child... Do you like your little brothers?"

"They are small things. Why a Jotunn, father?"

"We are creating an image, Hela. One that will last after this conquest of Jotunnheim." Odin smiled at her, an image that Hela did not see often anymore, not since the conquest of Vanaheimr and Skaði had whispered words into the Allfather's ears. He had looked to Hela, nodded, and then had Skaði taken back to Vanaheimr, her husband's children to stay as Odin's charges in exchange for her words.

"An image of what, father?"

"... Child, I raised you in blood, but even fighting animals seek respite. Let us have image for a while." He gestured to Frigga who came close and smiled at Hela. Hela only nodded and and began to turn away from the Allfather and Queen.

"Dear, hold on a moment."

Hela turned back and the tiny blue-eyed son of Odin was placed into her unknowing arms. She stammered for the first time since her youth, unsure of what she was to do. Thor looked up at her, innocent in his infancy and reaching up to her with chubby hands and fingers. Hela blinked back, her face stoic as he began to babble at her, his tongue clumsy and unable to form any words that Hela could understand.

"He's... What is he saying?"

"Nothing yet, child," Frigga assured her. "He knows only feelings and safety. He and Loki both will have time to learn all of the complexities of language. Perhaps you shall teach them?"

Frigga cooed at the babe in Hela's arms, who began to giggle. Hela felt a strange emotion tickle in her throat, one that she indulged in more when she was young. She gave a coo, similar to Frigga's, but Thor began to laugh and smile at Hela's attempt. She encouraged it, tracing a finger over Thor's hairline and cheek.

A small shock bounced off from Thor's skin, and he let out a little squeal of surprise. Hela smiled down at the little creature.

"Father, he's going to be a strong one. Maybe even stronger than you." She cooed at her father's son, and Thor giggled back at her.

She wondered how Fjörgyn could leave her child here for Frigga to raise. Hela, in her new curiosity, looked over to Loki, whose eyes were green and silver. She traced his once-cold skin, smiling at the joy in the infant's eyes.

She was right to respect and be cautious of Skaði, the Jotunn woman who had dared to scold her and call her a spoilt child. She had not desired the woman to be near her at all, not even as a spoil of war, a servant. She looked at Loki's clever eyes, eyes that wanted her attention the same way that Thor wanted her attention; the blood between her and Thor, however, sung differently than how Loki's seiðr sung to her heart, and she granted Loki gracious attention, her own shadows curling over her fingernails in reaction to the seiðr in Loki's veins as she traced circles over the dear one's face. 

She froze at the thought... Dear one.

Yes, these were her dear little brothers. She pressed a kiss to Loki's forehead and to Thor's before handing Frigga the blond boy. She bid her father, Frigga, and brothers a good night, wanting to rest and train for tomorrow.

* * *

"Your brothers are adorable, Hela!" Lifting her head from her book, Hela turned to the voice. She recognized golden-brown hair in beautiful, wide curls, and Hela stood to greet one of his father's charges.

Iðunn had a bag hanging from her shoulder, and Hela knew from experience that her friend had brought her golden apples.

"They are quite little, aren't they?"

Iðunn laughed at that, sitting next to Hela on the lounging chair and pressing herself against Hela's side.

"They are only a few months old, aren't they? They'll take a very long time to grow." Hela nodded at that; she had seen humans on Midgard, and she and Iðunn would most likely be mistaken for young women, hardly out of childhood. It amused her to think that humans would think them so young, Hela herself centuries old according to their timeline.

"I wonder what they'll do... What they'll be when they grow."

Hela smiled.

"Loki already has such power in his veins. He'd be a wonderful court magician, and Thor has enough strength to be the greatest warrior that the Realms have ever seen." Hela smiled, holding her hand out to grab the apple that Iðunn was ready to drop into her palm. She bit into the sweet flesh of the golden fruit, moaning as the juice danced over her tongue.

"That would be wonderful, if you were Queen, my dear friend." Iðunn pressed her lips against Hela's shoulder, Hela shuddering as Iðunn's lips pressed against a part of her skin not covered by the fabric of her dress. Warmth spread from the kiss and Hela swallowed the golden apple that was in her mouth with some difficulty. Iðunn made no sign of having noticed her break in usually smooth, graceful motions. The other Aesir smiled and continued to press kind worships to the pale skin of her Princess, the sticky juice of her apples leaving a strange sensation on bare flesh. The air around them was sticking itself to Hela, a life that Hela could only feel when running in the fields or head-first into battle, her face wet with perspiration as she cut her way through every enemy, every life, and every last, gasping breath from another.

"You are thinking too hard," Iðunn chided. "What troubles you so?"

"It is nothing, sweetling." Hela stood abruptly and she smiled as she watched Iðunn balance herself hastily. "Perhaps you are worrying too much? For your husband perhaps?"

Iðunn smiled, her grin brighter than any golden fruit. "Bragi is busy entertaining my Lord Odin, father to my dearest friend and lady. I do not worry for my husband, who is the best at servile propriety in our Kingdom."

Hela finished off her apple, its juice making her mouth moist again.


	2. Chapter 2

Hela would get restless when she and her father were not out taking more land for their own, and those times of restlessness were growing far more numerous than their military excursions. She had dismissed the maid that would tend to her and found herself now looking into her father's room, watching as Mimir's Head spoke of new ideas on ruling what worlds they had now under their control. Bragi sat close to them, writing things into scrolls and etching their existence in beautiful poetry.

"I see that you have now returned with only one eye to watch over the Realms, Allfather."

Hela bit her lip at that. When they had gone to war with Jotunheim, with the wisdom of Mimir to guide them, the sage had demanded payment. Hela had watched with disgust and fear in the pit of her belly as Mimir had devoured the eye of her father, Odin offering the small orb graciously. Mimir had then whispered everything to Odin, things that Hela had wished that she could have given her father without such harm to his appearance. The blood that poured down his face, the gasp that Frigga had made, and the lack of attention that Odin gave Hela when she grabbed his arm had made her stomach turn. He grabbed his two ravens for their aviary, cooing to the large birds in the way that he used to coo to her before she had professed herself a woman and warrior in her own right.

"Mimir, tell me, then. How do we raise Loki?'

Mimir whispered, and again, Hela felt her stomach turn. What would Mimir say of her little brother? He was hers, and Mimir would have every little say in how Loki would be live, lest the child be harmed. The more that she thought on it, Mimir had only led her father into getting hurt. Loki had been found by her father, yes, but on his own, without the use of Mimir to find him on Jotunheim. For the grace that Odin had granted, for saving his head and speech after the Vanir had cut his head off for his loyalty to Asgard, Mimir had turned against them, and her father was now scarred and cowed. It would be another explanation for his behavior, this new vision that he held.

Odin was nodding his head, and Mimir would continue, but Hela felt the knot in her stomach growing. She knocked without hesitation but did it so softly.

"Father?"

Odin turned to her, Bragi bowing deeply. Mimir gave her a weak smile. Hela did not smile back.

"Hela, do you need something?"

"I wanted to speak with you of your Vision, Allfather."

"Child, I need you to leave us for a while. We will discuss things with you at a later time."

Hela blinked twice, and she then turned on her heel.

Never had her father dismissed her in such a manner.

* * *

Hela sat among her books to think of her father and the conniving Mimir. Surely, Mimir was seeing something about Loki's future and scheming on how to torture the babe. She had seen Frigga playing with Loki and Thor. Both boys were still floppy-necked, but Thor was already attempting to lift his head, as though he was anticipating walking in a week's time; Hela held a safer bet on a month.

Despite their rapid development, her little brothers would still be vulnerable. Even they were not immortal, for all of the  and neither Thor's supposed strength nor Loki's _seiðr_ would be able to keep them safe. Hela could feel a strange protectiveness of them, only having known the two since her return from Jotunheim. Perhaps, if she could consult someone besides Mimir, or get a similar ability for herself.

"Princess Hela?"

Hela turned and smiled. Kvasir had been a good friend, not as close as Iðunn for her, since his birth. He had grown well, into a young man with a body too old for his mind, but his mind was always speeding ahead of him anyway.  


"Kvasir, I'm only thinking."

"Only, Princess?" Kvasir reached for a book on a nearby shelf, turning to sit at Hela's feet. It was something that took Hela back to her youth, when she had gained her first charge outside of war. Odin had given her the infant Kvasir after the Vanir had paid no mind to the spittle that formed into a crying infant, and he himself had found no care for the infant, not being of his blood. Hela had raised this child with the help of Iðunn and Freya, Frey the only male allowed near the son of the Goddess of Death outside of her family. He was hers, but not hers like her brothers were.

"Perhaps... I'm growing bored, already." Hela pulled the boy into her lap. No, she couldn't call him a boy, with all of the wisdom in his eyes and his body that was already as big as her own. There was still a wonderful sweetness in his eyes, as he did not blame any part of existence for his wisdom. He held onto her, however, as she would hold onto Iðunn. It was familiar to her, this intimacy, but as she pressed gentle fingertips to her son's face and arms, and he pressed his lips to her cheek in an innocent show of a young lover's passion, Hela felt her blood burn.

She hummed a soft song and picked up another book as Kvasir sung the lyrics to the song that Hela could hardly care to remember. It was a long lost poem, one that Hela had burned into her memory before torching the last books of Alfheimr that Odin and she had both decided as against their unification of the worlds. Kvasir had sung it to her, his little toddler hands grabbing to her legs and answering her question of what the value of those books could have brought them.

"What is the song about, Kvasir?"

"It is about Frey and Alfheim."

Hela nodded, lying her head back and reading. Her mind wandered to the disappearance of Freya and Frey, how she had sent them away for taking Kvasir too close to the dwarves. Galar had tempted Kvasir with honey, the child almost choking on the thick syrup. Kvasir coughed heavily, Frey just telling the boy to slow down while Freya rubbed his stomach. Hela had found all of them eating honey, Kvasir reaching up to her with tear-filled eyes and Frey not understanding; of course not, he'd been handed Alfheim to teeth on.

She looked down at Kvasir, and she noticed that he had fallen asleep on her breast, face the picture of contentment.

She closed her eyes, craning her neck down and kissing her son's forehead before drifting to sleep herself.


End file.
